Then he arrayed his men at the gates and about them duly and wisely, and bade those valiant footmen fall on the Goths who were getting ready to fall on them, and to do their best.

But he himself armed at all points took his stand at the Man's- door of the Hall, and swore by all the Gods of his kindred that he would not move a foot's length from thence either for fire or for steel.
So fiercely on that fair morning burned the hatred of men about the dwellings of the children of the Wolf of the Goths, wherein the children of the Wolf of Rome were shut up as in a penfold of slaughter.
Meanwhile the Hall-Sun standing on the Hill of Speech beheld it all, looking down into the garth of war; for the new wall was no hindrance to her sight, because the Speech-Hill was high and but a little way from the Great Roof; and indeed she was within shot of the Roman bowmen, though they were not very deft in shooting.
So now she lifted up her voice and sang so that many heard her; for at this moment of time there was a lull in the clamour of battle both within the garth and without; even as it happens when the thunder-storm is just about to break on the world, that the wind drops dead, and the voice of the leaves is hushed before the first great and near flash of lightening glares over the fields.
So she sang: "Now the latest hour cometh and the ending of the strife; And to-morrow and to-morrow shall we take the hand of life, And wend adown the meadows, and skirt the darkling wood, And reap the waving acres, and gather in the good.
I see a wall before me built up of steel and fire, And hurts and heart-sick striving, and the war-wright's fierce desire; But there-amidst a door is, and windows are therein; And the fair sun-litten meadows and the Houses of the kin Smile on me through the terror my trembling life to stay, That at my mouth now flutters, as fain to flee away.
Lo e'en as the little hammer and the blow-pipe of the wright About the flickering fire deals with the silver white, And the cup and its beauty groweth that shall be for the people's feast, And all men are glad to see it from the greatest to the least; E'en so is the tale now fashioned, that many a time and oft Shall be told on the acre's edges, when the summer eve is soft; Shall be hearkened round the hall-blaze when the mid-winter night The kindreds' mirth besetteth, and quickeneth man's delight, And we that have lived in the story shall be born again and again As men feast on the bread of our earning, and praise the grief-born grain." As she made an end of singing, those about her understood her words, that she was foretelling victory, and the peace of the Mark, and for joy they raised a shrill cry; and the warriors who were nighest to her took it up, and it spread through the whole host round about the garth, and went up into the breath of the summer morning and went down the wind along the meadow of the Wolfings, so that they of the wain-burg, who were now drawing somewhat near to Wolf-stead heard it and were glad.
But the Romans when they heard it knew that the heart of the battle was reached, and they cast back that shout wrathfully and fiercely, and made toward the foe.
Therewithal those mighty men fell on each other in the narrow passes of the garth; for fear was dead and buried in that Battle of the Morning.
On the North gate Hiarandi of the Elkings was the point of the Markmen's wedge, and first clave the Roman press.

In the Eastern gate it was Valtyr, Otter's brother's son, a young man and most mighty.

In the South gate it was Geirbald of the Shieldings, the Messenger.
In the west gate Thiodolf the War-duke gave one mighty cry like the roar of an angry lion, and cleared a space before him for the wielding of Ivar's blade; for at that moment he had looked up to the Roof of the Kindred and had beheld a little stream of smoke curling blue out of a window thereof, and he knew what had betided, and how short was the time before them.

But his wrathful cry was taken up by some who had beheld that same sight, and by others who saw nought but the Roman press, and terribly it rang over the swaying struggling crowd.
Then fell the first rank of the Romans before those stark men and mighty warriors; and they fell even where they stood, for on neither side could any give back but for a little space, so close the press was, and the men so eager to smite.